


Barbie's Hair Salon

by Naner



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Other, This is for y'all musical nerds, some light fluff, you let your demon bf dye your hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 16:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naner/pseuds/Naner
Summary: The demon had practically begged you to dye your hair something bold after you had mentioned liking his mood ring colours and how they suited him. While he couldn’t give you the same effect, he was desperate to make you look just as crazy as him. Which wasn’t a big vote of confidence considering how his own colour clung to his dirty, shaggy mound of fluff. It was cute in a trash sort of way but on you? Well, you had some doubts.





	Barbie's Hair Salon

“And he was like _‘No way you can shove this baby Sandworm up your nose’_, so I was like _‘Uh yeah, I totally can!’_ And then I-”

“_Beetlejuice_,” you whined softly as his fingers ran along your scalp to get the hair dye to stick to your roots.

The demon had practically begged you to dye your hair something _bold_ after you had mentioned liking his mood ring colours and how they suited him. While he couldn’t give you the same effect, he was desperate to make you look just as crazy as him. Which wasn’t a big vote of confidence considering how his own colour clung to his dirty, shaggy mound of fluff. It was cute in a trash sort of way but on _you_? Well, you had some doubts.

“You don’t have to help, you know. I _told_ you I was just gonna go to the salon to get this done-”

He gasped, feigning shock with one hand over where his heart should be.

“A _salon_? I didn’t know that I was talking to _high society_!” The demon decided to mock you in that annoying voice he loved to do when belittling your ‘breather’ opinions. “Oh, I’m sorry _Your Highness_, I didn’t know you wanted to blow three hundred smackaroos when your b-f-f-f could do this for _free_.”

You shrunk in your seat, feeling a little bit guilty. That kind of money to blow on something so frivolous? You felt bad for even suggesting it.

“I just meant that you didn’t have to be the one to do it, y’know. Didn’t wanna bug you with it,” you admitted sheepishly.

“Oh, honey, I used to dye my hair back in the day with fuckin’ Kool-Aid,” he snorted. “Now I just go to Hot Topic and pocket this shit for free. Waaaay better. Doesn’t make me wanna eat my goddamn hair now.”

“Beetlejuice!”

“What?” The man pouted at you, jutting out one hip to give you that level of sass you came to know and love. “Oh, stealing from a big corporation! Such a _bad_ man I am! C’mon, babes, I’m a fucking _demon_. We’re not exactly kosher with trying to score brownie points, alright?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in irritation. One day you’d go to that store and ‘accidentally’ leave them a wad of cash in Beetlejuice’s wake so the idiot didn’t get those poor kids fired. 

“‘Sides, we’re so close to a whole new _you_! You’ll get more personality from my craftsmanship than some prissy know-it-all.”

Sighing, you let him continue so he would stop his pouting. You wanted to tease him about just how personal he was taking this but you kind of didn’t want him to fry your hair in revenge for making a stink. He’d do it too, the asshole. You’d be coming out looking like a fried Doc Brown if you weren’t careful. It wasn’t really the look you were going for this season.

Beetlejuice mumbled nonsense to himself as he circled around you while you sat idly. Maybe doing this in a kitchen was a dumb idea but he had _insisted_ on washing your hair out in the sink. But you hadn’t noticed that he had let the dirty dishes stack up, Beej trying to use this as an excuse to get his one chore done while pretending he was being thoughtful. You’d yell at him upon finding out that your bowls were dyed the same colour as your hair.

Whenever you fidgeted, he swatted at you like an irritated mother scolding a kid for getting into the cookie jar. It was your turn to pout up at him but he seemed too preoccupied to care. You huffed and tried not to feel how sore your ass was from sitting in the same spot for what felt like hours now. It had taken _ages_ for that bleach to soak in but at least this was the final step.

You actually didn’t know what colour Beetlejuice had chosen for you - he had insisted it remain a surprise until he blow dried your hair himself.

“No peeeeeking,” he crooned as you tried to sneak a glance in the reflection of your fridge. “It’s almost done, babes! C’mon, you have more patience than _me_ don’tcha?”

“I dunno, Juice. You’re being such a tease about what colour you chose that it almost seems _suspicious_.”

“Suspicious? Me?” He chuckled and set your hair up under a showercap to allow you to move freely without worrying if dye would get all over the floor. “I told you I’d pick the colour that suits you the most! You don’t have trust in me?”

You rolled your eyes and strolled into the living room. He was right behind you, moving you out of the way so he’d get first dibs on a seat. You didn’t mind because you promptly sat down on your side and stretched out all over him. He gave a groan of protest but soon hooked an arm around you to cuddle as you lazily flipped through the streaming channels you had to watch something.

It didn’t take very long for you to nod off, remote slipping out of your hand and clattering onto the floor. Beetlejuice had watched you, more intrigued by you than whatever trash you had settled to watch. He smiled at how sweet you looked curled up against him. It made him feel so protective of you. You were _his_ little breather. 

Once enough time had passed, you were jostled awake by the impatient being. 

“_Baaaabes. Baaaaaabes!_ **Wake up**!”

You jolted upwards, snapping out of it instantly. A groan left your lips as you rubbed the side of your face that had unfortunately been pressed right to his suspenders. The red mark left in its wake made your flesh a funny new pattern that would wear off soon enough. You rubbed at it before blinking wearily up at him.

“C’mon, babes. Enough beauty sleep! We gotta wash that shit out and doll you up nice an’ purdy,” he finished in a southern twang.

You already felt like a doll the moment he picked you up by the shoulders and hauled you back into the kitchen. Trying to rub the sleep from your eyes, you let out a yawn only to be met with the stinging cold of the water shooting out of the faucet attachment. You let out a yelp of protest before Beetlejuice held your head firmly into place.

“Stop squirmin’ or you’re getting waterboarded instead.”

Annoyed, you shut your eyes tight and held your breath in case he wanted to make true on that threat.

His hands massaging your scalp felt like heaven in your dazed state. You leaned into his touch and were quickly rewarded with his nails scratching you gently. Beetlejuice knew what made you tick by now and head scratches were _definitely_ in the cards. A happy sigh as the water grew a bit warmer - lukewarm to make sure the colour wouldn’t wash out so easily the first go around. You were surprised that the demon actually knew how to maintain, well, _anything_. He didn’t exactly seem the patient type.

The demon watched you curiously as he washed out the dye. He wanted to have a _bit_ of fun to lord over your head. Your hair tangled in his talented digits and he gently tugged the curls. You let out a groan at the feeling, liking all the fussing he was doing. Chuckling, he splashed your face with water before pushing you up so he could drain your hair of extra moisture.

As tenderly as he was able to, he toweled you off. You felt like a cloud was encasing your entire head.

“... did you warm this up?” you asked, a bit surprised at the tender gesture.

“Well, you wanted a salon treatment, babes. Thought I might give you somethin’ you’d miss out on.”

He winked at you and you felt your heart flutter. The bastard knew how to be charming when he wanted to be.

Beetlejuice hauled your chair across the room, ruining the moment by making the _most_ godawful sound as the legs of the chair scraped the floor. You put your hands over your ears before you heard the loud whirring of a blow dryer. Heat graced the back of your neck, sending goosebumps along your arms and a shudder down your spine. 

You were lost basking in the warm glow, taking in the breeze as a welcome change from the gross splashes of sink water. Even when he blew it in your eyes to make you flinch, it still felt good enough that you wouldn’t knee him straight in the nards. 

Once your hair was properly dried, you felt his fingers running through your hair, coated with some sort of gel. You wanted to oppose the idea of any product before you saw it but your curiosity was definitely piqued. Finally, you were ready. All of it was ready to be unveiled so you sat in your chair, wiggling around like their were ants in your pants - or perhaps a centipede or two that had escaped from Beetlejuice’s pocket.

Pleased with his work, he finally retrieved your hand mirror and showed you the final product.

“_Taaaadaaaaa!_” he sang out, a third arm slipping from his torso to do jazz hands with the one not holding the mirror.

What you saw left you speechless.

And _not_ in a good way.

“Green?!” you barked, almost falling back in your seat at the sight. “_**Beetlejuice**_! That’s your colour! You said you were doing something special for me!”

He looked almost offended and quickly rolled his head around to mimic your whininess.

“I did do somethin’ special! Hey, not everyone can pull off the look.” Beetlejuice smoothed his own hair back and grinned a toothy grin. “And besides, babes, we know that green already looks so good on ya.”

Before you could continue your staunch protest of his choice, he had managed to catch your lips in a surprise kiss. Your complaints were muffled and your cheeks burned a deep red.

“See? The colour brings attention to just how sweet that face of yours gets when you’re all embarrassed.” He laughed loudly and took your face in his hands, planting another kiss right on your lips. “I gotta admit, I thought _I_ was the only one who could pull that look off. But it looks so damn good to see a little bit of me in - uh, on you.”

There was a saucy wink before he moved behind you to cuddle from behind, his stupid face looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. You sighed. There was no way you could stay mad at that face too long. He could get away with murder and you wouldn’t bat an eye. You knew what you were signing up for when you turned him loose.

“Fine,” you replied with a huff. “But _I_ get to style it a different way. I don’t want to do that gross couple thing of matching.”

The demon didn’t refute the request and instead made a row of fine hair care products dance in front of you midair. You chose the right gel and took a pair of scissors, demanding that he hold the goddamn mirror straight for one second - to which he replied: “Babes, me? Straight? I pity the thought! And the fool.”

You shushed him and began your work. He watched on with eager eyes lighting up as he began to get the idea. Without any word, he grabbed the scissors and an electric razor and finished the job for you. When you were done, you admired the well trimmed faux-hawk he left in his wake. You gave a little whistle before he leaned in.

“So, like it _now_?” he inquired, raising one eyebrow and biting his lower lip like a beaver.

Pulling him down by his tie, you planted a kiss right on his cheek and nuzzled against his scruff. It was his turn to change a different colour, his green tinted more pink now. He let out a girlish giggle and scooped you up into his arms bridal style. As much as he could get on your nerves, you knew you loved the infectious smile and happiness this idiot demon brought along with his wild schemes.


End file.
